


Intercourse With The Force

by DieMilch



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Non-Supernatural AU, Slow Burn, Smut, baby bi waverly, but just a teeny tiny bit maybe, drunk!Nicole eventually, drunk!Wynonna, hell drunk everybody, very minor champ/waverly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-08 16:17:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11650203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DieMilch/pseuds/DieMilch
Summary: Working title, sorry about that. Couldn't think of anything better. Based off a very embarrassing event that happened to me at one point.OR"Hey I set you up with this really hot date when I was drunk except you have a boyfriend and you're probably straight--oops apparently not so much." Hopefully more humor than angst, we'll see.Enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

“Waverly!”

 

Waverly groaned and squinted through the darkness. Her phone had been blaring and, thinking it was her alarm, she groggily slapped it off her nightstand. Only, her alarm wasn’t set for 1:15 am. Nor was it the slurred greeting of her drunk sister.

 

“Wynonna,” she rasped, picking the phone up off the floor, “it’s one in the morning.”

 

“Yeah, duh, I know how time works. I just met this guy—“

 

Waverly rolled her eyes. Not that she didn’t love Wynonna, but she’d only been back in town for three days and managed to be black out drunk for two of them—and she appeared well on the way to adding a third. Sometimes she wished her sister would just drink secretly in the bathroom and pass out quietly, like she used to in the good old days.

 

Waverly shook her head. _Yeesh, Wy’s humor must be rubbing off on me._

“—so yeah, he’s gonna be showing up to pick you up at 8 tomorrow after your shift!”

 

Waverly blanched. Had she heard that right?

 

“Wynonna, what the f—what on earth? You know I have a boyfriend! You can’t just—tell him I’m sorry but—“

 

“Your boyfriend is a rode-hoe, you could fuckin’ do better, baby girl. Heh. Did you hear my joke? Anyway, I’m about to go do better too and his name is Jooohhnn—“

 

The call dropped. Or maybe Wynonna hung up. Waverly desperately tried to dial her again but after 5 missed calls she sighed and turned her ringer off in defeat. Wynonna was _so_ dead.

 

 

“What do you _mean_ you don’t know his name?! You gave him my phone number!”

 

“Less yelly, more whispery and coffee,” Wynonna groaned. The two were sitting on the couch at the homestead the morning after the incident. Well, Waverly was sitting, prim, proper, caffeinated, and ready to murder her older sister who was hunched over a pillow, doing her best to avoid direct sunlight.

 

Waverly smacked her with a pillow.

 

“Jeez, okay! In case you haven’t _noticed_ I was drunk as hell, Waves. I think it was like Nick or Cole or something like that. Just ask him when he texts you or picks you up—“

 

Waverly shot up off the couch in anger, storming towards the door.

 

“He _hasn’t_ texted me, Wynonna, and if he did, I wouldn’t respond, because I have a boyf—“

 

“Oh shit,” Wynonna said, rubbing the back of her head, “I hope I gave him the right number.”

 

“Oh you shit-head head-shit…” Waverly trailed off into a long, colorful insult that would make even the crudest sailor blush.

 

 _Huh_ , _FuckFace McGee. That’s a new one,_ Wynonna thought, absently scrolling through her phone. Two new messages popped up at nearly the same time. _Doc and Dolls…fuck, I forgot which was which._ Wynonna was suddenly greeted by another message which came in the form of a pillow to her face.

 

“Are you even listening?” Waverly shrieked.

 

“Yes, yes!” Wynonna said hurriedly, avoiding her sister’s eyes, “I’m a piece of shit and you how a boyfriend who is also a—“

 

“Not now,” groaned Waverly. She slumped down in an armchair and pulled her phone out, checking for any new messages. There were none.

 

_Please, please let Wynonna not have given him the wrong number._

 

“Uh, I may have given him the wrong number, now that I think about it, so no harm no foul, right?” Wynonna smiled and tried to stand up, only to stumble a bit and fall back down. _Nope, floor is nicer anyway_.

 

“More harm! More foul! You told him to show up _at my place of work at 8!_ What if he’s a stalker, or like, what if he hates history or—“

 

Wynonna scoffed and scooted closer to Waverly.

 

“I may have bad judgment but not that bad. Look, just tell the guy you’re already riding the ‘rodeo champ’ and your dumb, drunk sister gave him your number. No big deal. I’ll come by around 8 if you really want me to. I am sorry.”

  
Wynonna’s voice grew soft as she looked up at Waverly. The younger girl could see the genuine regret in her eyes and sighed softly. No matter how much she fucked up—and she fucked up plenty—Wynonna truly had a good heart. And yes, okay, maybe Champ _wasn’t_ the greatest but four years is a lot. He was comfortable. She’d just tell this new guy to be on his way and things would go back to normal. Or, as normal as they ever could be in a town like Purgatory.

 

Waverly rolled her eyes and stood up, grabbing her coat and boots.

 

“You’re forgiven,” she mumbled as she strode out the door into the chilly late-November haze.

 

“Donut-level forgiven?” Wynonna called out hopefully.

 

“Don’t push it!”

 

She threw her head back against the tattered burgundy couch.

 

“Fuck.”


	2. Haught Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of the bar scene. Had to change of few things to make it fit but I had fun writing Waverly's 'ohfuckit'sahotgirl!!!' internal panic here.

Waverly was exhausted.

 

To begin, Gus had called in to let her know she couldn’t make it to her shift today (bad knee was acting up again). Then they inexplicably had run out of Tico’s Special Tequila _again_ , and Waverly was beginning to think a certain person’s habit of absconding any type of alcohol—ahem, _Wynonna_ —would probably make the situation explicable. Finally, Champ had brought in his rodeo buddies near closing time and sidled up to Waverly, kissing her sweetly before asking for free drinks for “the bros!” She caved, but only because she wanted to get them drunk and out of Shorty’s as soon as humanly possible.

 

In short, she was ready to go home, watch _Ancient Aliens_ , and konk out before 10 pm. Life, however, had other plans.

 

**DonutButt:** _Did he show up yet??? It’s almost 8. Also, can you bring home some happy fun time juice for your fave sis??_

**Archeolo-sis:** _No. And I cannot! What happened to the Ticos, Wy!!!_

**DonutButt:** _read at 7:53 pm_

Waverly huffed. “Un-fucking-believable.”

 

Due to her hectic day, she’d almost forgotten about the blind date. She groaned inwardly, imagining the painfully awkward conversation that awaited her. She just hoped that the guy Wynonna set her up with would be understanding, some of the shadier characters in her hometown felt that a smile was an invitation and a date was, well…

 

She checked and made sure her shotgun was loaded. Maybe she should call the cops? She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. _Just in case, you know?_

 

She shook her head and went back to polishing the taps and—

 

“Oh, God—fricken—“ she batted at the tap until the cheap beer spray stopped. “Perfect.”

 

She felt cursed, sometimes. She really did.

 

“Wow, I didn’t know Shorty’s had wet T-shirt competitions.”

 

Waverly looked up, surprised.

 

_Oh._

A woman holding a white Stetson stood in the doorway. But not just _any_ woman. The redhead wore a small, shy smile that stood in direct contrast to the mischievous. Uniform khakis hugged her curves and the dark blue button up of Purgatory’s finest made her pale skin look luminous.

 

_Luminous? Where did I even learn that word._

 

“H-Hi!” Waverly choked out, desperately toweling herself off, “just uh, a bit jumpy!”

 

She was jumpy because this was a cop. A new cop. And police made her nervous. That was it, that was the only reason she felt like there were butterflies doing barrel rolls in her stomach, nothing to do with those warm brown eyes or—

 

“I had a—a crazy night!” she chirped, trying to make conversation.

 

The woman approached the bar, laying her hat down on the countertop.

 

“Sorry I wasn’t here to see it,” she said, eyes tracing over Waverly’s body, lingering for slightly longer than necessary on the wettest—well, maybe second wettest—area of the girl. Waverly wasn’t as mad as she thought she should be. She also thought the other woman was way overdressed and maybe she should offer to—

 

_Brain, what the fuck? This is a woman. Lady-cop. Stop it._

“Oh it was boring! I mean not. I mean a little!” Waverly rambled on, the cop watching in amusement. “Uh, sorry! I’m Waverly. Waverly Earp!”

 

The woman smiled knowingly, “Mmm, quite the popular girl around here, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Her eyes flashed with hidden meaning. Waverly’s heart skipped. She thought briefly about getting her blood pressure checked.

 

“Haha! Yeah, smile and Wave, though uh, I’m sure if you’re a cop—I mean an officer! An officer of the law—you’ve heard about my sister, too” she snorted nervously, elbowing the woman.

 

_God I’m so fucking lame. Whatever, might as well get the Earp business out of the way first so she stops being so charming._

Waverly ignored the part of her that wanted that charming, dimpled smile to stay. She ignored it very, very intently. While staring at the very, very dimpled smile that was part of a very, very pretty face.

 

“I have, I met her last night, down at the Revenant, actually. Or, I guess I arrested her,” the officer grinned sheepishly.

 

“You _what?_ ” Waverly screeched. The woman started and stumbled back a few paces.

 

“Sorry!” Waverly said, totally not wishing for the redhead to resume their previous proximity, “She just didn’t tell me, actually.” _Wynonna is so dead! Again! Deader than ever!_

The woman laughed easily, throwing her head back and exposing her neck and wow what Waverly wouldn’t give run her fingers— _what the **fuck** is going on with me?_

“I’m just kidding. I did drag her out in cuffs, though. She was trying to start a fight with some asshole named Carl. He deserved it, I’ll give her that, but looking at the size and brains of him she would have easily won, and well, legally, whoever wins is probably going to get arrested. And she seemed nice. She was pretty cool, actually, though I’m sure you know—“

 

“No! She is not ‘cool,’” Waverly hissed, ignoring her beer-soaked shirt in favor of pacing around behind the bar, “she’s totally irresponsible! And stupid! And—and she said a bunch of stuff that ruined my day, too, when she was blackout and now—oh, shittickets. I didn’t even thank you.”

 

Waverly turned back to the officer who, in the moment, looked like an adorable bewildered puppy. “Thanks. For not arresting her, I mean. She really can’t take another mark on her record, you know?”

 

The woman cautiously approached the bar again, “I, uh, I do now. I’m really sorry about that—“

 

“ _And,_ ” Waverly continued, brandishing an empty glass, “I’m stuck waiting here until 8 because she set me up on a _stupid_ blind date and I have to let the guy down because she forgot I have a _fricken_ boy—I mean man—I mean, you know—and I’m gonna look like a total meanie and I’m not!” She looked at the cop pleadingly, “Like, I was voted Nicest Girl in Purgatory! I got a sash!”

 

The officer stared, dumbfounded. She gulped and put on her Stetson.

 

“And you think I’m totally crazy now. Shit,” Waverly looked down and ran her hands through her hair, face redder than the officer’s locks, “It’s just…long day.” She looked down at her beer-soaked shirt. “Uh,” she glanced up at the woman, who again had that perfect, elfish grin plastered back on her face, “sorry, do you mind…” she trailed off, making a swiveling motion with her hand.

 

“Oh! Turn, right!” the woman winked at her, and promptly did a 180. Waverly hurriedly gripped the sides of her shirt, but not before stealing one last glance at the woman. Her braid caught the fading sun just right, making her hair look like molten copper.

 

_I need to read less Nora Roberts,_ Waverly thought as she tugged her shirt off. Or attempted to.

 

Wynonna always joked that her tight tops would cut off her circulation one day, and while Waverly did her best to ignore her, she did have to admit the thought had crossed her mind once or twice. But she had never had any issues before, so she continued to rock her crop tops and her ‘hair for days’ with enough confidence to make even Willa begrudgingly admit she could pull the look off with flair.

 

But today, today was just full of issues.

 

“ _Crap._ Uh, um, officer?” she took a deeo breath, “I’m stuck.”

 

_My life is a mix of_ Arrested Development _and a poorly written porno._

 

“Oh, hey, I—I gotcha.”

 

The officer made her way around the bar and gently tugged the belligerent garment off of Waverly. Her fingers barely made contact with her skin for more than a second yet Waverly felt weak at the knees. Even the proximity of the fully covered, very-uniformed officer made her feel— _uncomfortable! I’m uncomfortable, is all. This is all just awkward._

“Haha!” Waverly forced out,” Good thing you’re not some guy, right? ‘Cause this would be really—“ her mind, at that moment, decided to note just how soft and full the woman’s lips looked. And how deep and warm her eyes were. And how close they were standing.

 

Waverly gulped, “—really awkward…”

 

Nicole leaned in and smiled.

 

_Shit._

 

“I…uh…I owe you one!”

 

“Alright, well, how ‘bout a cup of coffee? How ‘bout tonight?” The woman titled her head and pursed her lips and Waverly was well aware the intensity of her gaze left little up to interpretation.

 

“Uh, I can’t—blind date! With that guy—who I have to let down for—“

 

“For your boy-man, right,” the woman said, sauntering away slowly, “been there.”

 

Waverly tried not to stare at her hips.

 

“It’s the worst,” the officer whispered, twinkle back in her eye, “also where’s this _guy_ of yours. It’s almost 8:15. Surely _he’s_ texted you by now?”

 

Waverly groaned. Out of frustration. At Wynonna. And the situation. No other kind of frustration. At all. Nope!

 

“She didn’t give him the right number! She was so drunk she couldn’t even remember his name, said it was like Nick or Cole or something—“

 

The officer’s grin widened, “Or maybe like Nicole?”

 

“Huh?” Waverly said, befuddled. She hadn’t ever met a man named Nicole. “No, I just think she—“

 

She paused as the officer slid her phone over, opening up the contacts and tapping on the W.

 

**Wabrly Esrp my littke sistr her bf is a shuithed** was followed by a number almost identical to Waverly’s, save for the ‘4’ in place of the proper ‘3.’

 

_Holy mother of—_

“ _Oh,_ ” she exhaled, eyes as big as the dinner plates she had yet to clean. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks again as she watched Nicole pocket the phone and slide her a small cream-colored card in it’s place.

 

“Officer Nicole Haught,” the cop said, making her way towards the door. She put her Stetson back on and winked as she turned back one last time, “Let me know when you want to get that coffee.”

 

The door closed and Waverly looked at the card.

 

_Officer Nicole Haught, Purgatory Police Department_

 

“Officer Haught, of course.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Def still a work in progress and very much not proofread but I'm moving in two days and stressed so this is my form of coping I guess?? Really appreciate the kudos/comments guys!
> 
> PS: The blind date thing is based on my drunk friend calling me from two states away and shouting through the phone at 1 am that she met a gay girl and told her I was gay and that me and said girl should totally bang bc "that girl was such a babe. A gay babe. A gabe!" She neglected to get the girls' number so here I lie, living out my dreams vicariously through fanfiction.


	3. Sisterly Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly and Wynonna talk about Waverly's date.

“Wai-wait,” Wynonna wheezed out, finally able to tamp down her gut-busting laughter enough to ask a question.

 

“I gave your number to a _cop?”_

“Why is _that_ what you’re choosing to focus on here!?” Waverly exclaimed, chucking one of the embroidered couch pillows at her. “She’s a girl, Wynonna. A lady! You tried to set me up with some _woman_ while, might I add, I still have a _boy_ friend.”

 

Wynonna had collapsed into hysterics again and Waverly sat in sullen silence, waiting for her sister to regain the ability to have an adult conversation. _Well, I suppose you can’t regain what you never had,_ she corrected in her head.

 

“Was she hot?”

 

“Yes—I mean no! I mean, what does it matter?” Waverly averted her eyes, blushing furiously, “I have a boyfriend!”

 

“Listen, if I gave your number to a _cop_ while I was shitfaced, she must have been pretty spectacularly hot. Or very nice to me. Sounds like both. When do I get to meet her and thank her for not throwing my sorry ass in the slammer?” Wynonna took a swig of her beer, smiling smugly in Waverly’s direction.

 

“Okay, first of all—“

 

“Oh, she’s doing a _count._ ” Wynonna groaned to no one in particular as she stood up and headed to the kitchen. After a few seconds she returned with a tumbler of whiskey. “I’m ready now,” she added, raising the drink to her lips.

 

Waverly was about at her boiling point.

 

“ _First of all_ , Wynonna, you’re dating a fricken cop! Second of all, you are _not meeting her_! Look how well that turned out for me last time. Next thing I know you’ll be like, marrying me off or something.” Wynonna shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of her drink, followed by a swig of her now warm beer. She burped.

 

“Holy shit, Waves, that one was like a solid 8 decibels or some shit. What’s science for loud?”

 

Another pillow was flung her way.

 

“Okay, okay, yeesh,” Wynonna mumbled. “To reply, I am not dating Dolls. I am _working with_ Dolls, which is very different. Secondly, he’s a secret agent thing—not a damn cop, so he doesn’t know about my…youthful dalliances with Purgie’s Finest. Actually, maybe he does, but point taken…ish.” Another swig of beer. “Third, just ‘cause I haven’t said it yet today, Chump’s an ass. Fourth, I _will_ meet this new crush of yours. She needs the Sober ‘Nonna Seal of Approval.”

 

Waverly looked down at her sister, who was laid out on the floor with a sly Cheshire cat grin. The only thing she could think to say was—

 

“No.”

 

“No to what?” Wynonna retorted, annoyed. Dolls wasn’t picking up his phone and Doc appeared to be leaving her on read yet _again,_ so her prospects for a night of wild sex were looking slim. Maybe she could phone Kyle…she quickly shook her head. Not stooping that low this time.

 

“No to the crush. Yes, she is gorgeous and sweet and very, um, professional, but I am straight as an arrow!”

 

“Yeah, um, do me a favor and replay that sentence for a bit,” Wynonna scoffed as she rolled her eyes. Another sip of whiskey. Another swig of beer.

 

“I just—I admire her! That’s all. She’s so cool, and collected, and very nice…” Waverly could feel a dopey grin beginning to crawl across her face.

 

“And I admire your uncanny ability to lie to yourself,” Wynonna barked. Her voice had a rougher edge to it, and her tongue seemed to be sharpening by the second. Waverly looked down at her hands, clenched tightly around the beer bottle and tumbler.

 

“How much have you had to drink?” Waverly whispered.

 

“Don’t change the subject,” Wynonna snarled, taking another sip of beer. She started suddenly, as if remembering something, and slowly lowered the bottle. She pushed the two drinks away from her, setting them on the worn-down coffee table. A few deep breaths. Waverly watched, arm halfway bent out, reaching towards Wynonna. She retracted it as Wynonna opened her mouth.

 

“Sorry.”

 

Waverly nodded in acknowledgment. Wynonna got cruel after a few too many. They both knew why she drank, but now wasn’t the time to bring up going sober again. Not after last time.

 

_I hope she learns to forgive herself._

 

“Anyway,” Wynonna coughed, eyes shielded by her thick brown locks, “Waverly, just because these feelings are new and this person doesn’t…match up with what you think you should want doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give it a go. I mean, Purgatory’s small, but…you were glowing when you came home tonight. I thought everything with the date went great. Until, of course, you started raking my ass over the coals about everything!”

 

It was Waverly’s turn to be embarrassed, now.

 

“It’s not like that, Wynonna,” she said quietly, like a scolded child finding their voice after a long talking-to, “I just…I don’t know. I _do_ have a boyfriend. And yes, he’s not great, but…small town. Limited dating prospects.”

 

“Maybe not so limited if you let yourself let go a bit,” Wynonna chided, standing up to sit beside Waverly.

 

“Look, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did when I was wasted. Giving someone your number crossed a line, I see that. I just…want you to remember anyone—man, woman, demon straight from hell—would be lucky to have you, Waves.” She ran a hand through her hair, “Just make sure Champ treats you right, is all.” She paused and sighed, “No, fuck that. Make sure you treat you right.”

 

“Thanks for going all ‘older-sister-to-the-rescue,’” Waverly laughed, elbowing Wynonna in the ribs. The older girl rolled her eyes and shoved her back, sending her toppling against the couch cushions.

 

“Hey, you only get three of ‘em, okay? That’s one down.” Her eyes softened once more. “I’m proud of you, baby girl. _You,_ and you alone. No matter who you’re with, okay?” Waverly smiled and thanked her. Wynonna had always come through for her in the end, even when they were kids. Sure, she let Willa boss her around a bit and ultimately couldn’t shield Waverly from the tempestuous rages of Ward Earp, but she did her best, in the end. And that’s what mattered.

 

“So, in light of me imparting all of this amazing sisterly wisdom on you…donuts?” Wynonna widened her cobalt blue eyes and stuck out her bottom lip, putting on her best puppy dog face. Normally Waverly couldn’t resist Wynonna’s whining face, but she found it in her tonight.

 

“Nice try, off to be with you,” Waverly giggled, shoving Wynonna up the stairs.

 

“What?” the older Earp hissed indignantly, “the face always works!”

 

“Yes, yes, I know, you have the cutest puppy-dog face ever, yadda-yadda-yadda,” Waverly said, shoving Wynonna up the remaining three steps, “I, however, appear to be immune to such charms!”

 

Privately, however, Waverly replayed Officer Haught’s hopeful smile and laugh in her mind. Her dimples, her warm gold-brown eyes, her adorable eyebrow crinkle… _Shit, I need another round of vaccines,_ she thought.

 

She also thought, _very very_ privately, that the best way to build up a tolerance to a disease—not that Nicole could ever be something as vile as that—was to introduce the pathogen to the body in controlled doses.

 

She pulled the card out of her jean pocket.

 

_Maybe I should go grab coffee…for immunity’s sake, of course. Gotta stay healthy and all._

A little voice in her head said something like ‘lovesick,’ and Waverly mumbled every curse word she’d ever heard under her breath as she made her way down the hall to her bedroom.

 

“Stupid, stupid pretty, adorable, dimpled _asshat!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyooo. Trying to flesh out Wynonna a bit more as a character as well as Waverly. As much as I love the show, I really wish they would have spent more time letting Waverly analyze her feelings for Nicole.


	4. The Haught Puns Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love Wynonna's donut obsession. Dolls enters!

“But babe, it’s hockey night! Everyone’s gonna be there.”

 

Waverly rolled her eyes, thankful that the boy-man on the other end of the line couldn’t see her face.

 

“I know, Champ,” she sighed, pacing around her small, dusty room. She had just moved in again and was working on ‘cheering it up,’ but she still felt like there were too many bad memories coalescing in the corners of the room. _A good dusting is all it needs,_ she kept saying to herself.

 

“Then why can’t you come? I made my famous queso,” he pouted. Waverly stuck out her tongue, remembering last time Champ made his famous queso. She had thrown up for an hour straight. That boy’s stomach was made of steel.

 

“I’m helping Wynonna and Dolls out with a case, I already told you. This is really important to me,” she finished softly. Champ huffed on the other end of the line before biting out a “fine” and hanging up without another word.

 

“Ugh!” Waverly flung her phone at the bed. He wasn’t entirely in the wrong, she reasoned. They _had_ been planning this little watch-party for months and Waverly, just a day ago, _had_ assured him she’d be there bright and early, hanging up streamers and trying to salvage whatever culinary confection he’d burned this time. But she couldn’t give up on the case. A hockey watch-party would never be as important as solving the mystery of her father’s murder, and if Champ couldn’t get that through his thick skull she’d get her foot up his dumb ass.

 

Waverly shook her head. _I shouldn’t think that. He’s good to me_. A little voice in the back of her head insisted that Nicole would be better. She couldn’t find it in herself to disagree.

Grabbing her boxes of files, she yawned, tugged on her coat, and headed into the station. She’d do a coffee run later.

 

******

  

“Enter!” Dolls barked out. Waverly and Wynonna had just finished hastily rearranging boxes and shoving files under the table. Waverly didn’t really get _what_ Black Badge did, though Dolls had tried to explain it to her a few times, but she was very sure of one thing—“all this shit is tippy top secret,” in Wynonna’s words. Even the local police were forbidden from knowing about the goings-on of the impromptu BBD division that had formed in Purgatory; Dolls didn’t give much of a reason, only going so far as to say “eyes and ears are everywhere.”

 

Wynonna had rolled her eyes and chucked a donut at him after he said this, mumbling something about “tits and asses, too.” Waverly thought, _perhaps_ , her older sister appeared a bit…jealous?

 

Potential lover’s (or whatever the hell they were) quarrel aside, Waverly took Dolls’ cryptic message to mean he suspected one of the cops belonged to the Revenants—the gang responsible for her father’s death. Allegedly responsible, at least. Looing past her rage, she found it in herself to snicker silently— _who names a gang after a bar?_ The Revheads, apparently.

 

In any case, as much as Dolls’ curt manner annoyed her and as much as she worried about her sister getting into yet _another_ firefight, she was glad someone was finally taking her work seriously. After years and years of exhausting research on the gang—

 

_Oh, wow._ Waverly’s train of thought immediately halted, however, when she found the redheaded smiling softly at her before turning to address Dolls. Nicole’s eyes were filled with the perfect balance of mirth and seriousness and Waverly had to hide her face to avoid blushing.

 

“Hey, uh, you asked to be alerted when things come over the wire that seem…unusual?” Nicole, curious, glanced around the room. She noticed how the woman’s deep brown eyes marked the half-hidden files and weaponry that cluttered the room.

 

_Smart girl,_ Waverly thought.

 

“Yeah, we’re coming, thanks,” Dolls said curtly, hands folded behind his back military style, cool black eyes glancing disdainfully at Nicole. Waverly felt a hot rush of indignation surge through her.

 

“You’re dismissed” Dolls whispered, quickly shifting his focus to Wynonna. Not, however, before he noticed the electric gaze exchanged by the two women. Waverly didn’t miss the way his eyes flitted between the two of them, nor did she miss the bashful grin and nod of the head Nicole sent her way before filing out behind him.

 

The door closed before Wynonna approached Waverly.

 

“So, that’s it?” the younger girl said, indignant. She had literally put years of her life into this research, staying up countless nights, going through college _online_ for fucks’ sake, and all she got was a “you’re dismissed?”

 

Wynonna shrugged. She decided she’d cheer up Waverly later, after she put some lead into the skulls of these murderers. Or put them in jail, whatever. She got the feeling BBD didn’t particularly care all that much as long as they got results.

 

“He’s not really the let’s-go-for-drinks-and-celebrate-type,” Wynonna replied, hoping the young girl understood she’d be back to take her out in his stead after the bad guys went bye-bye. “You did great! Yep!”

 

Waverly sighed and mumbled a “sure” under her breath.

 

“Oh, uh, one last thing,” Wynonna remarked, smile half-cocked like a loaded gun. Waverly knew it was coming before she even opened her mouth, “Your girl is pretty… _haught.”_

 

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Waverly shrieked. Wynonna slammed the door shut before the files could hit her.

 

“Not y-e-e-e-t,” she sang, hurry after Dolls.

 

“More donuts!” she yelled out, hoping her irate boss would concede

 

He didn’t, even when she insisted they improved her aim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, as you may have noticed, 'The Revenant' was a bar in the first chapter because I have no idea what I'm doing so I guess the gang named themselves after that bar? Meh, I'll figure it out later.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm so sorry for the delay--I was in the midst of sorority recruitment for the past two weeks which is a Big Fucking Deal(tm) at my particular university. With that being said, I'll try to update more frequently. Enjoy!

Waverly hurt.

 

She usually could cover it with a smile, a wave, a swish of her hips and a dorky compliment, but today she couldn’t. Wynonna had almost died, _again._ Champ had almost died. And Shorty…

 

She choked back a sob. She hated the Revenants, she truly hated them to her core. They ripped apart her family once and now they seemed intent on doing it again. And for what? Drugs? Money? Glory?

 

She was angry, too. With Doc, with Dolls, with Wynonna…everyone. Doc couldn’t seem to make up his mind as to who he was playing for, Dolls had the bureaucracy of Black Badge shoved up his ass, and all Wynonna did was tell her everything would be okay and drink herself to death.

 

And everything was definitely _not_ okay.

 

_If they just let me help for once!_ Waverly fumed sullenly, _I could have done something. I should have done something! Not sit around useless and let Shorty…let him…die._

 

She began to cry in earnest. She felt safe here, in the loft above the bar, and even though she’d begun moving her stuff back to the homestead she still had a few items here—a pillow, her favorite blanket, and her diary. She grabbed the pillow and clutched it tightly, letting strangled sobs slip out as she buried her face in the soft purple fabric. Stupid Purgatory. Stupid, stupid fucking Revenants. Stupid her.

 

After five minutes, she pulled herself together. The wake was taking place downstairs, and her phone had been buzzing incessantly for the past five hour—probably Champ wondering where she was. She wished she could find it in herself to care.

 

Trudging downstairs, Waverly took a deep breath and straightened out her spine. She was an Earp, after all. _Death is something I should be used to_ , she thought bitterly.

 

Time passed around her but she barely noticed. She was numb to the mourners and grievers around her, instead staring off in the distance as she leaned on the counter, glassy-eyed and mute. Distantly, she realized she must be crying.

 

“Waverly,” a soft voice roused her from her melancholy.

 

Nicole, of course it would be Nicole.

 

“I’m so sorry,” she exhaled, warm brown eyes filled with compassion and a tinge of regret. Waverly realized she probably blamed herself for Shorty’s death, for not being able to save yet another citizen of Purgatory from the Revenants. It was comforting, in a weird way, to know Nicole felt obliged the same kind of duty as she did.

 

“I can’t believe he’s gone,” she replied, voice cracking. Nicole reached out and grabbed her hands, grounding her for once that day. It was remarkable how just her touch made Waverly feel more herself, more at home. She opened her mouth to thank her. And then Champ walked up.

 

“Oh, it’s okay,” he said, grabbing her and placing sloppy kisses on her cheek, leaning into her, overbearing almost. Nicole yanked back her hands if she were scalded, hurt flashing across her face for the briefest of moments, then cool professionalism replacing it.

 

“Hey, um…okay.” Waverly said, trying in vein to squirm out of Champ’s grip. She quickly gave up and stood there, apathetic, as Nicole averted her eyes. The wrongness of it all hit Waverly like a freight train. She wanted to be alone, suddenly.

 

“Hey, uh, I got your voicemail. About Wynonna—“

 

“Yeah,” Champ interrupted, arm slung around Waverly.

 

“Thanks,” Waverly bit out, arm shooting forward to find Nicole’s hand again. Champ never held her hands like that, like they were precious and powerful at the same time. Waverly relaxed slightly when she saw the corners of Nicole’s mouth quirk up and her amber eyes shine.

 

“Thank you,” Champ mouthed as Waverly choked out “that was really sweet.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Nicole whispered, eyes filled with light and warmth once again as she stared at Waverly. Champ moved slightly and her eyes flicked back to him. It killed Waverly to watch them dim as the officer stepped back, “Of course,” she finished, walking away from the couple.

 

“I dunno,” Champ husked, heavy arm still wrapped around Waverly’s shoulders, “Something about her rubs me the wrong way, Miss Officer what’s-her-name.” Champ finished the sentence with a smirk, expecting the youngest Earp to agree with him without pause, as she was usually wont to do.

 

Waverly, however, snapped. “It’s Haught,” she said, refusing to look at him.

 

“Ah…” Champ said, confused and more than a little worried. Why was Waverly suddenly so interested in the law?

 

“She…she’s—“ Waverly couldn’t finish the sentence. _Perfect. Caring. Kind. Amazing. Beautiful._ Her emotions were a mess. Shorty was dead, Champ was suffocating, and all she wanted to do was run to a woman she barely knew. This was all so fucked.

 

Champ, ever the dense one, completely misread her new tears.

 

“Oh, baby, baby, baby! It’s okay, don’t cry!” His voice dropped a few octaves as he tried to comfort her.

 

“Don’t cry, it’s okay. I’m okay. Wynonna and I were almost human sacrificed, and Shorty saved us,” Waverly looked up at him, bright eyes still filled with tears.

 

“Yeah…” she agreed softly.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“It’s okay.”

 

“Yeah, uh,” Waverly sniffed, shaking her head, “Dolls says that uh, they were, uh, brainwashed by some kind of cult.”

 

Champ, eyes slightly unfocused, murmured a “yeah.”

 

Waverly looked up at him again. He was a doofus, sure, but he had been there for her for years. He wasn’t perfect, but in Purgatory, you could do a whole lot worse.

 

“And…Wynonna tells me you were really brave,” she adds, hoping to alleviate some of her guilt over the redhead that she couldn’t seem to get out of her dreams.

 

“I was,” Champ agrees, nodding happily, “one thing’s for sure: I’m never leaving your side again, okay?”

 

Waverly tried to muster up some excitement at her previously faithless boyfriend pledging his loyalty to her, but when he began to kiss her, all she could think about were Miss Officer what's-her-name's hands.


	6. God Save the Bannister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY SO IT'S A YEAR LATER AND YES I'M THAT PERSON BUT ONWARD WE FORGE! TIME ISN'T REAL BUT SCHOOL FOR SURE WAS!

_I’m never leaving your side again…_   
_Waverly, I’m so sorry…_   
_Shorty…_

Waverly shook her head and stood up, shoving the heavy tome away from her. Even researching ancient Mesopotamia wasn’t cheering her up, and that _always_ worked.

“Hey!” Wynonna shoved through the front door, twirling Peacemaker on her ring finger. “Dolls made up his mind. Said I could actually use Peacemaker instead of those dumb cop guns. Stupid Revenants are crazy scared of it!” Wynonna did a twirl and whipped Peacemaker around, firing into the banister.

“Great,” Waverly replied. She didn’t even remind Wynonna about the last time she’d tried that trick and the chicken that had died for it.

She wished, in times like these, that she could be like Wynonna. Wynonna was mad. Wynonna was vengeful. Wynonna was deadly. She had a purpose. All Waverly could think of was Shorty’s body and Champ’s blundering idiocy and cry herself into a stupor.

“Hey,” Wynonna said, softer this time, “I’m sorry. About…everything. I am.”

“I know,” Waverly whispered. She began choking up again and turned away so Wynonna wouldn’t have to watch her cry. Again.

“Fuck, I’m so weak—“

“Hey! Hey, baby girl, don’t you ever say that to me, you hear?” Wynonna spun her around and stared at her with such ferocity that Waverly started, causing her cheap office chair to groan in protest.

“Who bandaged my broken hand when I punched Lane McGunnery in the nose? Who helped capture and release that coyote from hell that was killing all our sheep? Who stood up for me in class when Mrs. Wilkerson tried to fail me, _and_ still managed to get an A+?”

“Wynonna, you’ve been to juvie, though, and I never protect—“ Waverly started sobbing again. She was the nice one, the soft one. She never dealt with half the shit Wynonna did, and she knew deep down it was because Wynonna always protected her. Shielded her from the shit luck of their family name. And all Wynonna ever had to protect herself was a bottle of whiskey and a loaded gun. Waverly felt like an abject failure of a sister.

“Listen, I went to juvie ‘cause I was stupid, and I survived because I’m lucky. You’re the smart one, Waverly. Smart and brave, okay? Killing people isn’t brave. It’s just…it’s what I…”

have to do, they both finished in their heads.

Wynonna took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling. Tears were collecting at the corner of her deep brown eyes.

“You do protect me, Waverly. You keep me sane. All those years in juvie, it wasn’t Gus, it wasn’t Shorty, it was _you_ keeping me going, okay? You protect me in ways you don’t even know.”

Wynonna was staring at her earnestly, pleading with her. She didn’t want to say it, but they both knew what she was thinking—Waverly protected Wynonna from herself. From her alcoholism, for her wanton self-destruction, hell, even from speeding tickets (she had a lead foot).

They sat in silence for a long time.

“We do need your research skills at Black Badge. We both know the only thing I read is the back of Tito’s, Dolls is too impatient, and Haught and the rest of Purgy’s Blue Balls can’t know what’s up. We need ya.”

Waverly realized that Wynonna, once again, was trying to protect her. Make her feel useful, give her something to do, all while hoping she’d forget that her sister was out there risking life and limb to take down the gang that killed their father and sister.

Waverly almost teared up again.

“I...I’ll do it, yeah.”

“Thank God, because I got a migraine from reading—er, I mean, that’s my sister!” Wynonna corrected, clumsily clapping her on the back. A little too hard, as Waverly toppled out of the chair.

“Ah, fuck, shit—“

Waverly burst out laughing, Wynonna’s panicked face sending her into hysterics. Wynonna, relieved that no bones had been broken this time, slowly joined in, too.

“Oh, I…I needed that,” Waverly gasped out between belly laughs.

“Me too, kid, me too,” Wynonna replied. “Want some gin?”

Waverly shook her head and stood up, heading for the door.

“I’m going on a food run, actually. We’re all out of—“

“Donuts! We’re all out of donuts!” Wynonna shouted, eyes bulging out of their sockets.

“Christ, don’t have an aneurysm,” Waverly giggled.

“Can’t, don’t even know what one is!”

Waverly rolled her eyes, leapt down the steps, and headed to Shorty’s old blue truck. She guessed it was technically theirs, now, but it didn’t feel quite right to own it.

She put the keys in the ignition and headed into town, thankful for the fading sun and the warm leather seats.

She glanced at the reflection of the picture of Gus Shorty had taped to the dashboard. The hazy reflection made something harden in her heart.

Those damn Revenants would all be in the ground soon. And if she didn’t fire the gun, then by God she was gonna provide the bullet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There wasn't any Waverly/Nicole stuff here and that's BALLS but I also kind of wanted to reflect on how Waverly and Wynonna's dynamic works. Additionally they seemed to get over Shorty's death REAL quick, which makes sense for the pacing of the show but like...also feels a bit unrealistic?


	7. Car Keys and Cruisers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my only regret is the lack of wynonna here. I love her so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There IS a bit of Champ in this one and I'm sorry but I'm trying to DEVELOP HIS CHARACTER (jk just trying to develop Waverly away from his lack of character). 
> 
> Not super sure I got Waverly's internal monologue down the way I wanted, but I felt like the show overlooked some of her not-so-sugary-sweet sides until the Gooverly arc, and of course, she had a LOT OF SHIT goin' on.
> 
> Side note: I'm so weak for southern Nicole. 
> 
> Side side note: someone pointed out last chapter that I said Wynonna had brown eyes. 'Twas a mess up on my part. Will I ever edit it? Probably not, seeing as I'm doing this instead of my Spanish paper.
> 
> Adios!

           “Baby, you can talk to me, I’m here for you.”

           

            “Thanks, Champ, but that would be much more believable if you weren’t currently unbuttoning my blouse,” Waverly snapped. Champ let go of the white cotton and sighed.

 

            “I can’t help it. I’m just, you know,” he squinted at the weathered wooden wall, trying to remember that video Waverly had shown him about emotional maturity or whatever.

           

            “I, uh, I’m a physically emotioner!” he finally offered, rather proud of himself for getting that many syllables out at once.

            Waverly groaned and flopped back onto the bed. The soft light of the moon filtered in through the skylight. _Champ’s room is almost more comforting than he is._

 

            “I am trying,” Champ said, quieter this time. His head was hung low, and Waverly could hear the disappointment in his voice.

           

_That’s the whole issue._ She _knew_ he was trying. She really understood that he was—hell, he’d even shown up to the bar with a bouquet of roses, which was more than he’d done when she caught him cheating with Ginny McGee. It just wasn’t _enough._

 

            But it should have been! That was the part that infuriated her the most. She didn’t have the right to expect more out of him, like he said, he was a physical…whatever he said he was. That’s how they always solved things, or at least how Champ always attempted to solve things.

 

            Waverly was usually okay—or could pretend to be okay—with his bumbling apologies and heavy hands. But it just wasn’t doing it this time. She wanted him to connect with her emotionally.

 

_Sex probably is the only way he knows how to connect emotionally,_ Waverly thought bitterly. _I bet Nicole would at least have some advice or—_

What? Nicole?

 

            “Babe, hey, babe?”

 

            She snapped back into reality to see Champ waving his hand above her head, blotting out the skylight like a pasty, tattoo-covered cloud.

 

            _When did I get so critical?_

 

            She forced a smile.

 

            “I know you’re trying, Champ. I…appreciate that.” His face lit up like a barnyard puppy, and for a second Waverly remembered why she liked the guy half the time.

 

            “So we can do it, then?”

           

            _And it’s gone._

_* * *_

Waverly was a worrier. And a talker. But most of all, she was a walker.

 

            It was probably a habit she’d picked up in her youth, running out of the house and walking for miles across the pasture to avoid her father’s alcohol-fueled rage. She found that if she kept pace with her racing thoughts, she’d eventually calm down—or at least grow too tired to think anymore.

 

            So that’s how she found herself shuffling down Main Street at ten o’clock in the evening, hands buried in her pockets and fuzzy purple scarf wrapped around her face. A single crow cawed from atop a lamppost, and she shivered in spite of herself.

 

            This was a dumb, dumb idea, but she was itching for some sort of trouble. She desperately wanted a Revenant to jump out at her, fists swinging, so she could punch, kick, _hurt_. Being angry was easier than being sad.

           

            And she wanted to feel _something_ , to prove something. She was smart, like Doc. She was disciplined, like Dolls. And she was deadly, like Wynonna. And she was seriously tired of shittickets getting away with murder.

 

            “Shouldn’t you be at— _Jesus!”_

Before the mugger could finish her sentence, Waverly spun around and dashed towards the shadow in the alley, pushing her car keys against the woman’s throat as she slammed her against the brick wall.

 

            “Nice try you stupid Rev—oh, crap!”

 

            Only then did she realize that she’d assaulted an officer of the law in her quest for car-key inflicted vengeance. A _hot_ officer of the law.

 

            “Oh my God, Officer Haught, I am _so incredibly sorry!_ You just scared me and I didn’t see you and you know it’s late and night and there’ve been all the muggings recently—“

           

            “No, no, you’re fine!” Nicole choked out, “Would you just mind taking the keys away from my neck?”

 

            “I, uh, oh God” Waverly quickly pocketed her keys and pulled back, “I didn’t even notice. All that adrenaline and all and—“

 

            “Hey, no worries,” a slightly shaken Nicole said, “I’m glad you know how to defend yourself. You’re right, there _have_ been an awful lot of muggings around here. Hence why I,” she grinned and pointed to her badge, “am stationed in such a wonderfully well lit alley.”

 

            Waverly laughed, Nicole’s friendliness instantly putting her at ease.

 

            “Though, why were you out here?” Nicole asked, quirking her head to the side.

 

            “I, uh, I don’t know.” Waverly whispered, ashamed. _Oh, no reason, just running away from deep-seated emotional trauma and trying to start fights with gang members!_

“I like to walk when I think,” she finished lamely.

 

            She could tell Nicole didn’t quite believe her, but she shrugged and pointed back down the alley.

 

            “Well, if you want to think somewhere warmer, you’re welcome in my cruiser. I was about to go back inside anyway.” She rubbed her bare hands together, “the southerner in me wasn’t quite prepared for the frosty weather.”

           

            The barest hint of an accent slipped out when she said Southerner, and wow, Waverly really needed to go see a doctor soon because her heart was flip flopping all over the place like a goddamn pancake.

 

            _Must be the adrenaline,_ she thought nervously. She caught herself looking at Nicole’s rosy cheeks and bright red nose.

           

            _Adrenaline. Yeah…yeah._

She coughed and averted her eyes, aware she’d been silent for a good few seconds.

 

            “I’d like that, yeah.”

 

            Nicole tipped her Stetson and smiled, “After you, ma’am.” 


End file.
